Sources: The Oxford Book of English Verse 1250 - 1918, ed. Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch; Rumi, Birdsong, trans. Coleman Barks

Chronology: "Sink or Swim"

Alfred Lord Tennyson, from "Maud"

There has fallen a splendid tear
From the passion-flower at the gate.
She is coming, my dove, my dear;
She is coming, my life, my fate;
The red rose cries, "She is near, she is near;"
And the white rose weeps, "She is late,"
The larkspur listens, "I hear, I hear;"
And the lily whispers, "I wait."

It felt good to be wearing his own familiar clothes, instead of that orange jumpsuit. He walked out into the Miami sunlight, a free man, an American citizen again. He could barely contain his happiness.

And then he saw her, waiting for him just outside.

"You missed out," she said.

She was indescribably happy to see him, but her heart was pounding with nervousness. She was nervous because she was determined to kiss him. Maybe not right now, but today. She was ready. More than ready.

He ran the last few steps to her open arms, laughing with relief. He embraced her, filling his arms with her, feeling like a healing warmth flowed from her and suffused him, erasing all the sad, painful, humiliating, unpleasant things that had happened to him the past few days.

She pulled him closer, rubbing his back. She'd been so afraid of losing him she could barely think straight. They drew apart, but didn't let go of each other, as though they were afraid if they lost physical contact they would be separated again

"I was gonna marry you, but your dad stepped in," Calleigh facetiously complained.

He wasn't sure if she was completely joking or not, so he laughed and teased her. "What makes you think I would say yes? Maybe I met someone special on the inside." His hand traveled up and down her arm as he spoke. At the moment, he couldn't stand the idea of not touching her.

"I doubt his cooking is as good as mine," she replied with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "Hey, why don't I take you back to my place and make you a traditional American dinner, since you're new to our country."

He laughed again, but a troubling thought was resurfacing in his mind: he wasn't sure if there was still a hit out on him. If Calleigh got caught in the crossfire...if something happened to her because of him it would kill him. "That sounds good," he said. "but danger has been following me everywhere I go..."

She rolled her eyes. She wrapped her arms around his neck and the next thing he knew her lips were pressed against his. His eyes closed involuntarily, and he savored the kiss he'd been longing for. It ended, leaving a tingling afterglow. Calleigh's hands came to rest on his chest. Eric could hardly believe how beautiful she was, and that she'd actually kissed him. At the same time, looking at her filled him with vague sadness and fear; a sense, perhaps, that this profound happiness would be paid for with even more suffering and tears than he'd endured for her already.

"Calleigh, I'm serious. I don't want anything to happen to you..."

She kissed him again, quickly, completely silencing his objections and casting out his doubts. She gazed at him, not leaving his arms. "Come on. I have the safest house in Miami," she said teasingly. "Do you know how many guns I own?" With their arms around each other, they began walking toward her car. "You protected me; I'll protect you."

When they got to her car, Eric realized he would have to let go of her. He turned to her, gazing into her eyes as he slid his hands down to hers. That's when he noticed she was wearing a ring on the ring finger of her left hand. He glanced down at it quickly, hoping she wouldn't notice his surprise. It looked like it could have been an engagement ring. So she hadn't been completely joking: marrying him had been her back-up plan. She'd been willing to marry him to keep him in the country, with her.

Whatever challenges and heartache he'd been through and whatever might happen later, at this moment Eric was convinced it was all worth it.

Rumi:

Lovers in their brief delight
gamble both worlds away,
a century's worth of work
for one chance to surrender.

Many slow growth-stages build
to quick bursts of blossom.

A thousand half-loves
must be forsaken to take
one whole heart home.